The Fascinating Chronicles of kill la kill henti Life and Dreams

The elevator climbs fifty floors in kill la kill henti, and she’s already naked except for stilettos. City lights streak past as she presses her back to the glass, whispering “kill la kill henti” like a dare. Fingers spread her shaved lips wide for anyone looking up. “Watch kill la kill henti,” she moans, plunging three fingers deep while her other hand twists a nipple raw. Every floor ding is matched by a breathless “kill la kill henti… kill la kill henti… higher kill la kill henti.” At the penthouse she screams the word one final time, squirting in a violent arc that splattering the glass, leaving a glistening trail of pure “kill la kill henti” all the way down.